


MafiaDragQueen!AU

by YaraVannor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Drag Queen AU, Drag Queen Oikawa, Entertainment bar, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mafia Heir Iwaizumi, Multi, Violence, mafia, mafia!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaraVannor/pseuds/YaraVannor
Summary: Iwaizumi, a young Mafia boss' heir, is introduced to his father's most successful investment yet: the Aoba Johsai club. But where he thinks to find a regular entertainment bar, he is emerged in a new world which will change his life.(sorry if the description sounds whacky, I'm not great at these haha)
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Two boys

There were two boys.

Both staring at a version of themselves.

One through an illuminated mirror; the other through a filthy puddle on the curb.

One with his head high; the other hanging low.

One was wincing at the mascara in his eye; the other at the pained screams of a broken man.

Both were putting on an act: one out of pride; the other out of fear.

One was returned to reality by a familiar face bringing him a gin and tonic; the other by a forceful elbow to his side, reminding him to keep his eyes on the traitor.

“Oikawa, you’re up in five.’

A grin spread on the face in the mirror.

‘It’s about damn time.’

‘Boy! Come over here.’

Iwaizumi flinched at his father’s stern voice but complied. He reluctantly made his way further down the dark alley to where the older man was towering over their prisoner. He had developed a resilient stomach over the years but seeing a deformed face up close was still less than pleasant. A firm hand gripped his shoulder and guided him down to the traitor’s eye level.

‘You see this, son? This is what betrayal looks like. This is what happens when you loosen your hold on these low lives.’

The kneeling man let his head roll back while desperately trying not to choke on the blood filling his mouth. All Iwaizumi wanted to do was turn away and wait out this cruelty until dawn rose on the horizon but the bearded man kept him firmly in place. A wicked smile appeared on his father’s face.

‘And this…this is what we do to the unfaithful.’

Red splatters hit Iwaizumi’s cheek at the deafening bang of a gun and the tortured body before him finally slumped to the ground.

The situation had gradually dissolved, as professional and non-chalant as ever. Only the young heir was supporting himself on a nearby wall trying to find his bearings while the rest of the men were chatting about their wives at home or an upcoming sporting event they were planning to see. A handkerchief was suddenly held his way by a man Iwaizumi identified as his father’s most loyal bodyguard. After his initial confusion he realised that the man’s blood was still staining his face so he offered the other a small nod and brought the soft fabric to wipe at his cheek. They shared each other’s company in silence for a while until Ohara decided to clear his throat.

‘You ever hear of Seijoh?’

The boy’s silence and knitted brow were enough to suggest the opposite.

‘It’s become one of your father’s most successful investments’, he continued. ‘A type of entertainment bar. The boss man isn’t a fan of going there himself but me and the guys do visit occasionally.’

A stray cat passed by the main road and distracted Iwaizumi for a moment.

‘Maybe you should tag along tonight’, the broad-shouldered man added.

Iwaizumi brought his eyes to Ohara, then to the laughing men behind him and eventually to his father smoking a cigar near the Rolls. Anything that wasn’t connected to this freezing alley or the scowl of his old man was good enough for him. Entertainment bar, huh? Maybe this would be able to take the glooming cloud of future responsibilities off his back.

The car ride was as silent as usual: Iwaizumi sitting in the back with two bodyguards occupying the front, thinking they had to shut their traps because they were in an enclosed space with the boss man’s son. Now, he knew that the mafia royalty was not to be trifled with (if the events of that evening were any proof) but on this particular occasion Iwaizumi was internally begging anyone to start a conversation. The passing lights weren’t enough to distract him from the still present screams echoing in his ears. But this was just another Friday night, right? He should be getting used to this by now. Except he doubted he ever could.

How was he supposed to take over the family business one day, if his knees got weak every time he would have to chastise someone for stepping out of place. Unless he would find another approach… He chuckled to himself despite his grim mood. His father would personally throw him into the nearest river with a block of cement around his ankles if he ever dared to break the “traditions”.

‘We’re here, sir.’

The window was spotted with fresh raindrops but through their kaleidoscope reflection Iwaizumi could still make out the illuminated words attracting the entire street’s attention: Aoba Johsai.

Iwaizumi hadn’t realised they were bringing almost the entire entourage: two more black cars pulled up in front of the club and nearly twenty men in black suits started forming a protective circle around him. The young heir was beginning to feel ridiculous. Fortunately, it was a busy night for the establishment and the full house barely gave them any attention. The newly arrived customers were drawn to the main stage, where three women were lip-syncing and performing a version of ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’. Iwaizumi was glad it wasn’t simply a cheap strip joint but seemed to hold a certain level of class where performers could entertain without having to strip half naked. Even so, he didn’t understand as to why his father refused to set foot into this esteemed club.

The wall of suits around him was staring to make him feel crowded, so he pushed his way forward until he caught up with Ohara who was leading the formation.

‘Are you sure this is the right place? For one it said a different name up front then the one you—’

‘Colloquial!’ The broad-shouldered man had to shout to overpower the music.

‘What?’

‘Seijoh! It’s what the regulars call this place. Don’t worry kid, we’ve been here a million times.’ With that he signalled something to a black-haired woman who instantly understood and led their ridiculously big group to some free tables near the stage. He was yet again amazed at the power their position granted them: to find an empty spot in this crowded hall had seemed impossible.

When they were seated on the velvet aqua-coloured benches, the young heir leaned over to his father’s confidant and shouted in his ear.

‘So much for you only “visit occasionally”.’

Ohara kept his eyes on the dancing girls before them and flashed a wide grin.

‘Well, you know, occasionally, every Friday, Wednesday, Tuesday. Same thing.’

Even if he had wanted to continue the conversation Iwaizumi would have failed. Every bodyguard’s eyes were glued to the stage: some of them sitting back and enjoying the show, others on the edge of their seat cheering on what had transformed into a grand musical number. There were men and women of every colour dressed in every possible colour in the most outrageous and sparkly outfits he had ever seen. The high demand was understandable: it most certainly was entertaining. The performance eventually came to an end and the artists were rewarded with an uproar of applause which was quickly silenced by a voice coming from a booth at one of the higher levels looking down onto the stage.

‘Alright, children calm yourselves! Because as marvellous as this may have been, there is a Queen waiting backstage who I know every. Single. One of you has been gagging for!’

Iwaizumi visibly flinched at the clamour thundering across the hall as the audience clung to the announcer’s every word. The platinum blonde was dressed just as extravagant with a deep blue gown embellishing her form and a white feather boa draped around her shoulders. Iwaizumi was at a considerable distance but he could have sworn that something was…off about her. Not in a bad way particularly; just different than the girls he had seen on stage.

‘You all know who I’m talking about people’, she went on with the silver coated microphone at her lips. ‘She has been gone far too long but do not fret children. Because she is back. In the flesh and in the most flamboyant attire of the century! The Queen of all Queens: Oikawaaaa!’

The built-up excitement of the room exploded once more in deafening cheers and screams as the audience lost their minds at the next performer’s arrival. He recognized the song as a track from that Burlesque movie with Christina Aguilera, ergo Iwaizumi was on the look-out for a female artist. But when the song properly kicked off and she stepped into the spotlight, much to her onlooker’s delight, Iwaizumi’s jaw got caught mid-air and was far from returning to his mouth anytime soon. The only thing his body was able of doing was reach for the nearest thing in his vicinity which in this case was Ohara’s arm.

‘Is…is she…?’

The bodyguard only laughed and amicably slapped the boy’s back.

‘A man? Yes, she is.’

Iwaizumi was thrown into a trance. His father had always kept him miles away from these kinds of circles, deeming it obnoxious or unnecessarily loud; and here he was glued to this man’s form as he was singing his heart out in a luxurious gown and heels so sharp, they might take out someone’s eye. He vaguely knew what a standard Drag Queen was supposed to look like but this one did not strike him as anything common. He wasn’t wearing a wig like the announcer was (because yes, it seemed apparent now that she had been a Queen as well), so his short, bouncy chocolate brown hair was gracing his head like a crown; challenging those stereotypes head on. The half burgundy, half grey gown with it’s extremely low cut décolleté was also revealing a prosthetic-free chest. Yet none of those “masculine” traits took away his grandeur: he was owning that stage like had been born on it; dress, heels and all. Nor did it diminish his beauty.

Iwaizumi had to swallow hard when those intense eyes fell on his gaping form for less than a second before moving around the rest of the crowd again. Only now did he notice the white brace wrapped around the performer’s right knee. Had it simply been a measure to protect his joint before; it was now an accessory to his bedazzled outfit with white gems lining the fabric and reflecting the spotlight across the room. How could all these extraordinary traits be comprised in one person?

The performance was nearing its end and with a final pose, full of confidence and pizzazz, “Oikawa” left the masses cheering their hearts out and wanting more. When the excitement had finally settled down the announcer made herself noticeable again.

‘Wow, wow, wow! Now if that isn’t a comeback than I don’t know what is! Oikawa, dear’, she extended a hand towards the Queen still dominating the stage, ‘welcome home. We’ve missed you.’ To that Oikawa blew her a kiss and took one final bow to the crowd; a beaming smile gracing his features.

‘And this is it from me for tonight, Ladies and Gentlemen. Laugh, enjoy your drinks and do visit our fine establishment again. We’ll be waiting.’

With that, a softer, lounge bar track started playing and conversations started up throughout the club. Iwaizumi was slightly perplexed by the previous revelation which is why he had overseen the slender figure descending the stairs leading down from the stage and taking a stance at their tables. He only looked up at Oikawa leaning against one of the benches when his men greeted him with excitement.

‘Oikawa!’ Ohara was the first to formulate any coherent words. ‘Where have you been?’, he continued in a playfully accusatory tone. Oikawa put on a cheeky smile and brought a hand to rest on his hip.

‘Honey, I told you I was doing business a few towns over. Nothing I can do about that.’ His grin grew giddier. ‘But now I’m back! So all is well~~’ He dragged out the last word which sent goosebumps along Iwaizumi’s entire body. Why did he have to be standing on this particular side of the table; his hip only inches away from Iwaizumi’s shoulder and his hand resting on the back of his seat. Thankfully, the Queen had been ignoring him so far.

‘So, boys, how fares the boss man? Claiming any new territories lately?’, Oikawa decided to throw into the round. But instead of answering, Ohara thought it wise to include the young heir in the conversation. ‘Why don’t you ask this charming fella over here?’

Iwaizumi slightly straightened his shoulders and forced himself to look up at the stranger, who was already intensely observing him with curious eyes. ‘Yes, I thought I had spotted a new face in the crowd.’ His chocolatey voice did not help Iwaizumi’s already knotted stomach but he mustered up the courage to keep their eyes locked. Ohara continued.

‘You’re looking at the heir to his papa’s grand crime syndicate.’

Oikawa’s eyes seemed to sparkle as he watched the other with newfound wonder. ‘…yes of course. I should have seen the resemblance right away.’ He reached a careful hand towards Iwaizumi’s face and let his long, cream-coloured nails hover over the scar on his right eyebrow for a moment before retreating and letting it rest at his side again. Iwaizumi was doing his best to keep his heart level but this man was making it considerably hard for him to stay relaxed. His father’s men didn’t react either, despite the fact that someone had nearly laid a hand on him without permission. If possible, Oikawa’s voice was even more mellow than before. ‘What’s your name?’

Another bold approach. This was not how he was used to being addressed. However, Iwaizumi decided to roll with it and meet the Queen on the same ground. ‘Iwaizumi.’, he proclaimed in a low and somewhat steady voice. Oikawa brought a hand to his face to stifle a chuckle. His entourage was being less subtle and started snickering, to Iwaizumi’s great confusion. Ohara raised his drink to his lips and chose to enlighten him.

‘That’s kind of a given, son.’

Further giggles passed through the round and Iwaizumi could have slapped himself ten times over. Of course, he knew his last name! He tried to ignore the heat rising to his head as he cleared his throat to reclaim some of his dignity. ‘Hajime.’

Oikawa lowered his hand and looked as fascinated as he did a minute ago. ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’, the heir repeated, still amazed that he had managed to hold the other’s undivided attention.

‘A James Bond impression? And here I thought the evening couldn’t get any more exciting!’ It seemed as though Ohara and the rest had made it their mission to humiliate him to the fullest. He painfully regretted not having worked on his authority when it came to his father’s employees. Unexpectantly, Oikawa came to his rescue.

‘Ignore them. They’ll jump onto anything to distract themselves from their dull lives.’ The remark seemed to hit home for most of them and the bodyguards finally settled down. ‘It’s a beautiful name. I like it.’ Iwaizumi felt strangely rewarded by that (even though he had done very little to earn that name). ‘But I can’t possibly call you that’, he continued, ’It’s far too personal. And well, I can’t exactly call you Iwaizumi-san, now, can I? I mean, that’s reserved for your father. Mhm…’ He started stroking his chin in thought while scanning the young heir’s face as though the answer was hidden in his features.

He suddenly held up his index finger; his eyes sparking with amusement. ‘I know!’ He let his hands rest on his legs as he bent down to whisper in Iwaizumi’s ear. Then again, it wasn’t much of a whisper since he purposely turned his head towards the group and said in a not so quiet voice: ‘What if I call you…Iwa-chan~~?’

Heat was instantly burning in Iwaizumi’s cheeks and the uproar of laughter was only making it spread to his ears as well. So much for saving him before. Oikawa was just as bad as the rest. The Queen had backed away and joined the laughter, for once taking his eyes off the blushing heir. Iwaizumi felt anger bubbling up in his gut. How dare he mock him like this? He was the son of a respectable mob boss, for crying out loud!

But acting on his anger was not an option. He didn’t want to attract any more attention to himself. He let his face cool off for a moment and opted for a disgruntled look instead, which the Queen received with delight. ‘Do you always go around offending your guests?’

Oikawa’s smile instantly turned wicked; his eyelids dropping low. Iwaizumi gulped when in one swift movement, the Queen was back in his personal space; his face only inches away from his own.

‘Are you offended?’, he whispered onto Iwaizumi’s lips who could practically taste the other’s breath. Iwaizumi held his own as they stared each other down, neither willing or, courageous enough in the heir’s case, to move away. Being so close to the Queen’s face, Iwaizumi could properly marvel at the work of art painted on his skin: the mauve eye-shadow and lipstick perfectly matching the dress and tiny white gemstones lining his cheekbones to reflect the spotlights on stage. Not to mention his eyes: they were the same chocolate brown as his hair, staring into his grey ones with such an intensity that, if Iwaizumi hadn’t been sitting down his knees might have given in.

The tumult around them had quieted down and Iwaizumi could already feel multiple eyes on them. Their trance was abruptly broken by Oikawa himself as he put his showman smile back on and addressed the entourage. ‘Anywho. Boys! It’s been lovely seeing you. If you’ll excuse me, I have an urgent rendezvous with a hot bubble bath.’ He waved them goodbye and upon leaving the table leaned down one final time to Iwaizumi’s ear and said in his usual chocolatey voice: ‘See you around…Iwa-chan.’

Iwaizumi didn’t have time to fire back a retort. He could only watch in defeat as the high-heeled Queen waltzed through the club and out of sight. He remained glued to the spot where Oikawa had disappeared, not knowing what to do with this strange encounter. There were too many feelings jumping about in his chest: anger, confusion, humiliation…possibly even intrigue? He had never come across anyone like Oikawa and he doubted he ever would. And not knowing whether to hate or like him was more than frustrating.

A glass of beer suddenly appeared in his field of vision. Ohara seemed to have a habit of holding things in Iwaizumi’s face.

‘Come on, kid. We were only joking, you understand?’ Iwaizumi wasn’t ready to agree with that statement but accepted the beverage anyway. ‘Listen’, the older man said while reaching into his pocket to retrieve a piece of paper,’ your father didn’t have time to fill you in on this, so he asked me to take care of it.’ Iwaizumi eyed the form which looked like some sort of contract with a raised brow. ‘He’s decided to give you more responsibilities… he wants you to supervise Aoba Johsai.’

The young heir nearly choked on his beer. ‘…what?’

‘You know, handle communication between the club and the syndicate, keep tabs on their expenses and incomes; the usual.’ Iwaizumi felt the bitter taste of betrayal creep onto his tongue.

‘Is that why you brought me here? So you could corner me into accepting?’

Ohara sighed and leaned back in his seat. ‘It’s not a punishment. He’s rewarding you for your engagement. Besides’, Iwaizumi had taken another long swig from his drink to numb his irritation,’ it’s not about you choosing to accept this.’

A grunt escaped Iwaizumi’s lips as he slammed the glass back onto the table. There was no point in fighting this: his father’s word was absolute. He had to yield to his decision and he knew that he should be happy about getting a “promotion”. But working in a place where Oikawa could pop up any second and fuel his confusion? It sounded like a sure road towards disaster.

Ohara slid the paper towards him with a nod. ‘You still need to take this to the owner and have him sign it. Just to make it official.’ Iwaizumi let out another grunt but snatched the form off the wooden surface and got to his feet. Better to get this over with quickly. He greatly longed for a goodnight’s sleep.

‘Alright, fine. Who’s the owner?’

Ohara failed to suppress the grin pulling at his mouth. ‘You just let him humiliate you in front of your bodyguards.’

Iwaizumi almost crumpled the paper in his tensed fist as the other continued eyeing him with a both entertained and pitying gaze. He wiped a hand over his face in exasperation and forced himself to take a deep breath. And here he thought it couldn’t get any more troublesome.

He started walking in the vague direction he had seen Oikawa last; his mind even more perturbed than before. How was he gonna find him in this crowd? And what the hell was he supposed to say to him when he did? “Oh, hi again. Just dropping by to tell you that I’ll kinda be your boss now.” Ridiculous. Especially after Oikawa had clearly demonstrated that he had the upper hand. He came to a stop when he reached the end of the hall; still no Oikawa in sight. The heir must have looked utterly lost because one of the bartenders caught sight of him and went over to lend him a hand.

‘Hey, man. You looking for something?’ He had very narrowed eyes, Iwaizumi noticed, and the lines around them made it look like he was in urgent need of sleep. He held the paper up in explanation.

‘I need to get this to Oikawa. Syndicate business?’

The black-haired man understood and pointed to a door at the back marked ‘Queens only’.

‘Through there. His dressing room is the third on the right.’ Iwaizumi gave him a curt nod and headed for the door. He could have sworn to have heard a ‘good luck’ from the guy before he returned to his place at the bar but the chatter around him could have fooled him. With a tentative hand on the door knob, Iwaizumi took one final deep breath to calm his twisted nerves and proceeded to enter the Queens’ realm.

The notice on the door hadn’t helped, but upon stepping foot backstage, the young heir could definitely tell that he did not belong. Bedazzled figures crossed the hallway from one dressing room to another, some out of wigs and ready to head home for the day, others leaning against the white walls, loudly discussing their performances. He noticed he had been frozen in place for a while when a tall, curvaceous woman standing in a doorframe started grinning at him. ‘You lost, sugar?’

Iwaizumi was too taken aback to give a proper answer, so he just offered a weary smile and a head-shake before continuing down the hall. He had to excuse himself to two more Queens who were blocking the way before reaching his destination. The shiny, gold letters spelling “Oikawa” were at least some reassurance that he was in the right place. His fist hovered over the wooden surface for a moment. He had absolutely no clue what was expecting him behind that door and Iwaizumi felt that with every passing second, he was losing more courage to face the unknown.

A faint chuckling made him aware of the same Queens still watching him from a distance, apparently amused by his hesitation. One of them casually reached a hand into her hair and pulled off her wig to reveal a strawberry blonde, short-trimmed head underneath. With his other hand stroking his weave like it was a pet he said in a calm tone: ‘Go ahead. She doesn’t bite.’

Iwaizumi turned his face away from them, fighting another blush creeping onto his cheeks. Why was it so hard talking to them? They were just people. To halt their ongoing snickering, he gave the door two decisive knocks. ‘Unless you offer her your exposed neck.’

Iwaizumi whipped his head towards the short-haired Queen who simply winked at him with a grin spread on his face and left a now terrified heir to his demise.

‘Come in.’

The same mellow voice. Well, it was too late now anyway. He forced his slightly trembling hand to push the door open and he was about to announce the greeting he had been rehearsing in his head when he came to a halt at the sight which greeted him on the other side. The warm lights from the illuminated mirror perfectly framed Oikawa’s slender figure which was at that very moment stepping out of the dress which was pooled around his high-heeled feet. The only thing still covering his body were the shiny knee brace and a pair of light grey spandex shorts reaching up to his waist. He calmly turned his attention to his visitor and didn’t seem at all phased about his current state when he addressed the other with delight.

‘Oh. See you around, indeed.’

Iwaizumi’s mind was blank. All of the saliva had been sucked from his mouth and his jaw had abandoned it yet again. Oikawa chuckled at the intruder’s appearance. ‘That is the exact face you wore when I came on stage.’

The heir managed to snap out of his trance and instinctively turned his gaze away from the half-naked man. ‘I-I’m sorry. I should…come back later’, he stammered uncomfortably in an attempt to make a run for it. Unfortunately for him, the Queen was far from being embarrassed.

‘I don’t mind’, and then he added with a sly grin, ‘if you promise not to stare.’ Iwaizumi swallowed what little had remained of his spit and forced his stubborn legs to turn back to face his task. He did his best not to meet the other’s eyes as he extended the slightly crumpled piece of paper. ‘You should read this. It’s from the syndicate about…future employment…here.’

He had definitely intended for it to sound more confident but what was he going to do when a bare-legged and bare-chested, six-foot-three Drag Queen was looking him up and down? He only noticed now how tall the other actually was. The shoes probably added the three inches but the guy was already bigger than Iwaizumi to start with. Oikawa took his time to leisurely stroll over to the other’s extended hand with a curious smile on his face. The closer he got, the faster Iwaizumi’s heart was beating in his chest and when Oikawa’s long nails brushed over his fingers, he thought it might actually jump up into his throat. Since his hands were now empty and didn’t know what to do with themselves, he decided to cross his arms and take on a decisive stance. The fact that his gaze was glued to the ground, however, didn’t exactly exude confidence. With a final glance at the young heir, Oikawa brought his attention to the contract in his hands.

_Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look…_

It was like a broken record in Iwaizumi’s head which he didn’t know how to turn off. A sparkly gem from the other’s shoes caught his eye nonetheless and before he knew it his eyes were travelling up the Queen’s athletic calves, to his robust yet slender thighs and eventually his defined abs peeking out over the spandex. The arms holding the sheet of paper were incredibly defined as well but thin enough to radiate a sense of elegance.

‘I said no staring.’

Iwaizumi’s body instantly tensed at the sudden remark. Oikawa hadn’t even taken his eyes off the form and was reading it with the same smugness tugging at his lips. Iwaizumi had never blushed so many times in his entire life.

_What a pretentious bastard_.

The Queen seemed to have reached the end of the contract because he started chuckling to himself and brought his eyes back to the scowling heir. ‘My, my. This really has turned into an interesting day.’ He walked over to his desk and signed without further remark.

_He seems way too chipper about this_ , Iwaizumi thought and before he could dwell on it further Oikawa was towering before him again; completed form in hand and a wide grin on his face. ‘I look forward to working with you, Iwa-chan.’ The heir only spared him a quick glance before reclaiming the contract and shoving it into the pocket of his leather jacket. His eyes were back to focusing on any architectural structure not relating to the other person in the room.

‘You’re having a hard time looking at me, aren’t you?’

_What an obvious observation._

‘Well, you are half-naked, so…’

There was that amused chuckle again. ‘That’s not what I mean.’

That involuntarily brought Iwaizumi’s eyes to look up at the other’s face. There was a slight hint of sincerity shining through his pompous mask (even if only a hint) and it gave him the determination to hold the other’s gaze. When the heir kept quiet, Oikawa decided to elaborate. ‘Don’t worry. You’re definitely not the first Drag Queen virgin we’ve had walk through our doors. I mean, we’ve all been there at some point.’ He paused for a moment to replace that sliver of sincerity with his wicked trademark grin. ‘And I’m ever so pleased that I got to be your first.’

The inuendo hit him yet again, like Oikawa’s previous comments had and threatened to make him flustered but for once Iwaizumi was standing his ground. ‘Well…I did see the announcer first.’ Oikawa held a hand to his chest and pretended to feel insulted. ‘So mean, Iwa-chan. Now you’ve gone and ruined it for me.’

Iwaizumi suddenly realised that those comments of his gave off an almost childish air at times. It definitely made it easier to lift up his own stature and remind himself of his superiority as a member of the syndicate. He forcefully cleared his throat and addressed the still pouting Oikawa in a low voice.

‘I will come back tomorrow morning, 9 am sharp to go over the recent stats of the club. This place better be open and ready when I get here.’

The pout morphed into a lop-sided smile. Oikawa seemed impressed by the other’s decisive announcement. He took a challenging step closer which forced Iwaizumi to crane his neck up even more.

‘Sure thing, boss. Can’t wait to get started.’

_Is he playing a game with me?_ , the heir thought. _See how far he can push it before I give in?_ One thing was for sure; he hated losing. He mirrored the other’s movement and made himself as tall as he could.

‘Alright, then. See you around…’ He pondered for a moment and Oikawa was about to chip in with a snarky good-bye when an intriguing word flashed through Iwaizumi’s mind.

‘…Shittykawa.’

Thankfully he had waited a moment before turning towards the door and take his leave because Oikawa’s expression was priceless: the grin had vanished into thin air and he was left gaping wide-eyed at the back of the heir’s head as he exited his dressing room with a confident stride. Iwaizumi was filled with a rush of excitement and couldn’t keep the proud smirk off his face as he traversed the Queen-crowded corridor yet again.

The other was still frozen where Iwaizumi’s insult had left him with his arms hanging defeatedly at his sides. A sudden laugh broke free from his mouth, making him rush to the open door to gaze after the compelling young man in black. _I guess I’m not the only one who can play the nickname game_ , he thought and let his head rest against the wooden frame. The strawberry-blonde Queen suddenly emerged from around the corner and sent a disgruntled look his way. ‘Jeez, Oikawa. Put some clothes on, would you? Perv.’

But said “perv” was too dazed to react and continued staring dreamily at where Iwaizumi had disappeared back into the real world.

‘Shit.’

The other moved closer to follow his line of sight. ‘What?’

A long sigh left his lungs as Oikawa said with a hint of sadness in his voice:

‘He’s cute.’


	2. Mandarins And Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa is over the top as usual and Iwaizumi gets an introduction to the performers <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

With a steaming cup of coffee to-go in hand, Iwaizumi was for once riding shot-gun in one of the mob’s signature black cars. He had discreetly asked Ohara to sneak him out of the house early in the morning, so he could avoid his father dumping the entire bodyguard consort on him again.  
That day he was grateful for the silence. It gave him time to get his thoughts somewhat in order before re-entering the NetherRealm. He was sincerely regretting having suggested 9 am. He had barely got any shut-eye, what with a certain queen being stuck on his mind. Not that it was just him. The whole experience had been so surreal, he sometimes doubted it had actually taken place. But even though his natural reaction was to freak out and wreck his brain for any way of getting out of this contract, a part of him was strangely excited. He had been too tensed up that night to realise it but for once in a long time his shoulders had been burden-free. Relieved from his father’s presence scheming in the adjoining room, relieved from the future of the syndicate resting on his shoulders. Maybe it was the steady rhythm of the music, or the passion of the performers when they gave it their all in the spotlight; it felt like something Iwaizumi could get used to.

_Iwa-chan._

There it was again. The new record playing in his ears. He sighed and took a sip of his coffee. All the intrigue and excitement aside, he wondered how he would go about dealing with that pompous queen on a regular basis. Luckily, a few hours of being on his own had cleared those first-time-nerves out of his head. He just hoped his usual stern self would prevail in Oikawa’s presence. He would soon find out.  
Surely enough they pulled up in front of Aoba Johsai. It was strange how different a building could look in bright daylight. He hadn’t realised how white the stone actually was. He felt Ohara’s eyes on him. ‘What?’ The other pulled a cigarette out of a box in the centre console. ‘You sure you don’t want me to come with?’ ‘They’re Drag Queen’s, Ohara, not a pack of feral dogs. I think I can handle it.’  
He purposely ignored the bodyguard’s raised brows as he exited the vehicle and was soon left standing alone on the sidewalk in the chill morning breeze. His breath was forming in steamy clouds in front of his face and if anything, he was glad to get inside the club to escape the biting cold. He had a pretty good idea of what would greet him past the large teal doors: a ghost town of a club and a comfortable silence to let him do his work. He pulled down the handle; unlocked. So far, so good. Oikawa better have dragged his ass out of bed if he was to stay on grumpy-morning-Iwaizumi’s good side.  
A faint hum of an upbeat melody caught him off-guard. It was almost as loud as it had been the night before. The haze Iwaizumi’s head had been in while traversing the entrance corridor was blasted away when a full-on rehearsal scene presented itself before him. At least a hand-full of people were occupying the stage, dressed in leggings, shorts, tank tops, you name it. Some of them might even have been wearing ballet slippers. Iwaizumi found himself stuck with his hand resting on the door and his self-esteem plummet a number of levels. He hated being unprepared. On top of that, the music suddenly cut out and every face present turned towards the young heir standing at the front of the room. He definitely would have preferred Oikawa’s obnoxiousness over this. Because yes, the one in charge was nowhere to be seen.

  
His attention was drawn to the bar on his left where the strawberry-blonde and the sleepy bartender where whispering to each other. The former slid off his stool and walked over while addressing him from afar. ‘You’re that guy from last night. Private audience with the leading lady? Not bad.’ He slightly touched Iwaizumi’s arm to shoo him towards the exit. ‘Nice to see that you’re so dedicated but we are closed. I’m afraid you won’t be getting that juicy preview of tonight’s performance. So, bye-bye, now.’  
The queen soon found that the other’s firm build wasn’t going to be easily moved out the way. ‘My name is Iwaizumi Hajime and no, I did not come to spy on your rehearsal. I’m being expected. You better tell Oikawa to get his royal backside in here or my first report might end up looking not too rosy.’  
Confusion flashed behind the other’s eyes and the previous politeness slipped away as fast as his forced smile. ‘You’re the new…’ He left the sentence hanging in the air and Iwaizumi could only guess what was going through the other’s head. The strawberry-blonde queen brushed off his bewilderment and picked up a different tone. ‘Right. Oikawa was still half-asleep when I last checked but that tardy queen should show up any minute now. Oh, and everything you need should be on table four. Over there.’ There was some form of respect in his tone but Iwaizumi felt like the other was only partly focusing on him. Also…half-asleep? Do they live here or something?  
‘If you need anything, shout’, and with that he turned away from the heir for good and as if by magical intervention, the music started back up and the rehearsal continued as if nothing had happened. Quick glances were still stolen by some performers as Iwaizumi was taking a seat in his assigned booth but other than that, he was no more than a fly on the wall. He could also feel that the pair at the bar had picked up their hushed whispers which were most likely directed at him but the heir chose to ignore it.  
They obviously knew what they were doing: all the documents had been fanned out and categorised, so all Iwaizumi had to do was work through each stack. But as soon as he started scanning the club’s monthly income, he found himself struggling to focus on the words. The pen in his hand kept unconsciously tapping to the fast-tracked beat and if that wasn’t distracting enough, the ongoing rehearsal continued drawing Iwaizumi’s eyes to the stage. The performer’s sweat-glistening bodies moving to the music in all kinds of colourful sportswear was just as entertaining as the actual shows had been the previous night. Before Iwaizumi knew it, he let the folder rest in his lap and unwillingly devoted his attention to the dancers. It was strangely stimulating and put him in a daze; the stage being its unreachable utopian self; so stimulating that he yet again overheard the approaching intruder.

‘Boo!’

  
‘Jesus!’ Iwaizumi’s finger tensed around the hilt of the pen and he slightly jumped out of his seat at Oikawa’s unexpected entrance. The queen had slammed both hands on the back of the seat and was sticking his head forwards to look at Iwaizumi’s profile with a wide grin on his face.  
‘Morning, Iwa-chan! Sleep well?’ Iwaizumi was painfully reminded of his restless body turning on the mattress. ‘What’s it to you, Shittykawa?’  
He could practically hear Oikawa’s pout as he retracted his head and brought his clacking heels further into the room. He took an exaggerated look at his non-existent watch. ‘Rude even before breakfast. How refreshing.’  
Only now was Iwaizumi hit by the audacity that was Oikawa’s outfit. It was showier than his previous costume had been: loud, over the top and almost shrill. Admittedly, it outlined his slender form perfectly and drew instant attention to his long legs (which Iwaizumi was strongly fighting to ignore). But it was all…too much especially for 9 in the morning. Since the heir was left speechless, his greeter put his thoughts into words quite accurately.  
‘What the hell are you wearing?’  
The addressee did a twirl which ended with him facing his accuser. ‘What do you mean? This is my casual morning look.’ Unbeknownst to the heir, a forced smile had spread on Oikawa’s face as he desperately tried to get the other to keep quiet in front of their guest. Apparently, he wasn’t very successful.  
‘Yeah, right. Mr. “Bed-head” was named after me.’ By that point Oikawa was half-way across the room to tower before the strawberry-blonde sipping on a glass of orange juice. The heir was left behind to sit in his confusion. ‘Shush now, would you?’ he hissed; his voice not fitting the playful statement. He was met by a disgruntled glare. ‘What are you doing? Go change. You’re already late for rehearsal and –’ his eyes dropped to the other’s feet in disbelief,’ good God, are those the new diamond pumps? Really?’  
Oikawa looked around the room and ended up flashing a spectating Iwaizumi a fake smile before turning back to the one stepping on his moment. ‘Kinda ruining it for me, Makki’, he said through his teeth, a hint of the fake giddiness still present. Makki’s face suddenly dropped as he realised the reason behind the entire get-up.

‘Oh my God. You’re doing this for him, aren’t you?’  
‘What? No~~.’  
‘Then what’s with the carnival?

Oikawa put a hand on his hip to try and rest his case.  
‘I’m just using every opportunity to let my beauty shine.’  
There was a beat of disbelieving silence.  
‘You’re a terrible liar, Oikawa’, said the dark-haired bartender in an incredibly non-plussed voice. Makki pointed an approving finger at his friend behind the bar. Oikawa dropped his arm with an exasperated sigh and leaned against the counter.  
‘I merely wanted to show my best side. Also, you were a lot less judgmental about “pretty boy” last night.’  
‘Yeah, because I thought he was a mysterious stranger having temporarily swept you off your feet and not the freakin’ boss man’s son!’ Oikawa’s signature pout made its appearance. ‘Always such a buzz-kill. It’s not like anything is gonna happen anyway.’ Makki’s stern expression, however, would not be moved by the other’s childish behaviour. ‘You’re on thin ice here Oikawa.’

  
‘Good thing I brought my skates then’, he countered with a cheerful smile which gave Makki the urge to slam the fruit bowl on the counter over his ordained head. The tall queen leaned over to said bowl and grabbed two mandarins while his two friends were watching him with deep frowns. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’m starving and I have to tend to our new boss.’ His long coat dragged a half-circle on the floor beneath him as he paraded back to the heir scribbling away at his documents. Matsukawa leaned slightly forward, the same dead-pan expression on his face. ‘He’s gonna get us in trouble, isn’t he?’ The other just sighed. ‘Yep.’  
Iwaizumi only briefly flicked his eyes up at him and Oikawa could tell that he was trying very hard to ignore his re-appearance. Unlucky (or lucky) for him, Oikawa was extremely persistent. He plopped down on the same bench a few feet away from the heir and started casually peeling his fruit. Iwaizumi must have felt his eyes on him because he nervously started tapping his pen on the table while mulling over the text before him. Only when a manicured hand holding a piece of mandarin appeared in his space did the pen come to a halt. ‘Want one?’ The innocent question paired with the big-eyed stare he was giving him made Oikawa look even more like a child. A child in a dress and heels, that was. Iwaizumi frowned at the orange half-moon between the other’s fingers. His irritation towards Oikawa was yelling at him to turn it down, but his stomach was disagreeing. He should’ve grabbed a damn croissant with that coffee earlier, he was starving. He quickly snatched it away from the other’s hand and stuffed it into his mouth, offering a quiet ‘thank you’ much to his pride’s annoyance. Oikawa’s grin was big enough to be caught by his peripheral vision.

  
Iwaizumi had only managed to get through one folder and with the radiating presence next to him, he doubted he would get much further than that. ‘Enjoying the show?’ Oikawa had let his head rest in both his palms which were propped up on the table as he followed the rehearsal with sparkling eyes while chewing on his breakfast. Iwaizumi failed to understand how that question was directed at him until the other turned his face in his hands to meet his confused gaze. ‘I saw you watching it earlier. You looked quite mesmerised.’ The heir forced his embarrassed eyes back to the paper about the club’s expenses. ‘They’re good at what they’re doing, what can I say’, he managed to produce even though it failed to be delivered as confident as it had sounded in his head. Oikawa’s munching face just chuckled. ‘You’re cute when you’re trying to be serious.’ Cute. Iwaizumi was caught off-guard by the sudden compliment and sensed the vexing blush from the previous evening making another appearance. He forcefully cleared his throat in an attempt to change the topic away from his “cute” self. ‘Says the tropical bird distracting me from my work. Then again, you trying to be serious would be the biggest surprise of the day.’

  
From the other’s brow raised in amusement and playful smirk tugging at his lips made Iwaizumi realise that his comment had sounded way more flirtatious than intended. Damn it. He couldn’t control his mouth around him. Who could blame him? Oikawa looked like a work of art; he couldn’t deny that. The aqua coat with padded shoulders adorned with different coloured feathers actually made him look like a majestic bird and Iwaizumi found it hard to talk him down on his appearance any further. Oikawa was definitely at a different level than any of the possible suitors his father had presented him with over the years. When he kept his mouth shut that was. To his annoyance, the other’s lips seemed to be on the verge of making yet another sound.

  
‘I think we’re gonna get along great. None of the other supervisors dared to come back at me with such panache.’ He slid another half-moon into his mouth, his slender finger pushing it past his beige coloured lips. It seems to be his preferred shade of lipstick, Iwaizumi quietly noted to himself. He let Oikawa’s statement bounce off of him and desperately tried to bring some sense of professionalism back to the conversation. ‘As impressive as your performers are, they’re distracting me from my work. Is there any place where I could finish these in peace?’ He would much prefer to spend his morning laid back on the velvet seats watching the dancers entertain him but unfortunately, he had a reputation at the syndicate to uphold and a father to impress, so a return to reality was necessary. Oikawa was evidently not a fan of the heir’s request.

  
‘Oh, come on, Iwa-chan! How boring does that sound? You cooped up in a lonely office when all of this is going on.’ He let his shoulder inch closer to Iwaizumi’s broad frame while slowly edging the documents away from his hands. ‘They need to be finished by the end of the day, correct? Meaning you still have plenty of time to go over them once you’re back in your fortress.’ Iwaizumi was following his movements with a frown. ‘Come on. I know you’d rather be exploring the club. I mean, that’s part of your job too, isn’t it? Familiarising yourself with the establishment’, he leaned in closer to Iwaizumi’s ear, his warm breath hushing over the nape of his neck, ‘establishing your position as the new boss.’ Iwaizumi’s ears heated up at the trademark purr of Oikawa’s voice. But in a flash, it was gone and replaced with an excited turn towards the stage and an exaggerated arm shooting into the air.

  
‘So, conclusion: we ditch the paper work and have an introduction instead!’ Iwaizumi barely had time to switch back and forth between Oikawa’s mood changes and it was starting to give him a headache: one second he was seductive and quiet; the next he was shouting across the room like a pubescent teenager. A glance to the space between his hands made him realise that Oikawa had completely dragged the papers to his side of the table. ‘You’re gonna be spending a lot of time here, Iwa-chan. Might as well get to know people’s names.’ His gaze full of expectation, Oikawa waited eagerly to see if his advances had hit the right spot. Iwaizumi’s steel grey eyes trailed across the room. The contagious beat wormed its way back into his bones and he couldn’t help but sigh. He was too sleep-deprived to put up a fight at that point, so with another disgruntled look at the beaming queen beside him, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned defeatedly back in his seat. ‘Go on, then.’

  
That was all Oikawa needed to hear: without asking permission he hopped over to the heir so their shoulders were touching and twisted in his seat to have a better view over the attendants. Iwaizumi’s body swayed to the right at the contact but he fought off the urge to complain. Also, because he got a whiff of the other’s perfume which smelled like lavender and oranges and it was quite agreeing with his nose. Oikawa didn’t waste any time and started by pointing a decisive finger at his companions at the bar.

  
‘Alright, starting with that sour bitch over there. The strawberry-blonde who’s still giving me evils. That’s Hanamaki. But since that is way too much effort for someone as salty as him, Makki will do just fine.’ Said queen kept his eyes on his phone while showing Oikawa the middle finger. Charming, Iwaizumi thought. He had noticed that Makki had slightly towered over him at his arrival earlier. He probably held the same height as Oikawa. Seeing him without make-up was particularly strange: the missing eye-shadow showed just how small his eyes actually were, making it look like he was constantly regarding his surroundings with a judgemental squint. Oikawa’s finger moved slightly to the left. ‘And his other half behind the counter is Matsukawa. You’ll have noticed by now that no one here can be bothered with overly long names, so Matsun is what we call him.’ Oikawa practically had his back turned to him, so Iwaizumi was taken off-guard when he suddenly twisted his head around to add something in a low voice. ‘Careful what you say about Makki when he’s around. Those eyes may look tired but he sees and hears everything.’ Matsun was the guy who had helped him the night before. He had definitely had the advantage in terms of height and Iwaizumi feared that the more people Oikawa introduced, the punier he would feel. He focused back on the man in question and to his unease, as if he had overheard them, the poker-faced Matsun lifted two fingers to his eyes which he then warningly pointed at the heir. Iwaizumi slightly shuddered at the motion. He was glad when Oikawa directed his attention over to the dancing performers. They had started eyeing the two of them between their movements; some with a curious grin pulling at their mouth; others looking rather wary at the newcomer frolicking with their clubmaster.  
‘Now onto the stage!’, Oikawa proclaimed in his naturally excited and loud voice, ‘you’ll see that right now we only have our regulars in, they’ll have to do. First up on the left, the small fella with the buzz cut; that’s Watari. No queen, but damn that boy can strut a walk when he’s in the mood. Very athletically talented too.’ What Oikawa called small was for once actually smaller than Iwaizumi. He seemed very quick on his feet and jumped from one spot to the next as if there were hidden trampolines in the floor boards giving him a boost. Oikawa momentarily had to press pause on his lecture, his lips forming a line in giddy amusement when he noticed that Iwaizumi had unconsciously reached over and grabbed another piece of mandarin. Before the heir could take note of his grinning face, he continued. ‘The one trying to hide in the backrow is Kyoutani. You should get used to that scowl because it’s pretty much a permanent thing. He’s obviously not a fan of the dance routines but when he gets to perform a rap section live, he lights up like a candle, I’ll tell you that.’

Another cheeky whisper was sent the heir’s way. ‘I like to call him mad-dog-chan.’ It was probably a very fitting nickname. Iwaizumi was getting very angry vibes from this guy. Like he was constantly on the verge of punching someone in the face. He would make sure to steer clear of the “mad dog”. Oikawa suddenly clasped his hands together and almost started swooning as he reached the far right of the stage. ‘Oh, and of course my beloved children. Those two boys are barely nineteen and even though they haven’t been with us long, they are on the same diva-level as any of the other queens. The tall one with the spikey hair is Kindaichi; very sensitive and devoted to his craft and the smaller one with the sad-looking face is Kunimi. We’re still working on his devotion but the boy has a precision like no other.’ Iwaizumi had taken them to be not quite as old as him but nineteen really was pretty young to be working in a place like this. He wondered how they had come to this type of employment. He lifted his eyes to the only nameless person still on stage. A knowing smile passed over Oikawa’s face as he made notice of the heir’s sparkling eyes. ‘Stunning, isn’t she? That’s our main instructor, Fox. She’s one of the few performers who actually have professional dancing experience, so we’re more than lucky to have her on the team.’

  
Fox gave a little wave and winked at Iwaizumi who found it hard to take his eyes off of her: she had that sort of presence which told you that she was the main attraction in the room, drawing all the eyes to her fluid and confident movements at the front of the stage. Iwaizumi felt that even if all else failed, he could get along with her. And with the hateful blush returning to his face, he realised she reminded him of a certain queen’s performance of the night before. Oikawa thankfully put some distance between them and mirrored Iwaizumi’s pose as he crossed is arms and proudly smiled at him. ‘There you go, boss. I dare you to remember them until Monday.’ Iwaizumi’s competitive spirit was suddenly ignited. He cocked an unimpressed brow at him. ‘You think I can’t remember seven names?’  
Oikawa put out one of his hands and gestured across the room. ‘Care to give it a test run and prove me wrong?’ To his delight he could see Iwaizumi’s mouth twitching to supress an amused smile. A roll of his shoulders and an extended index finger later, Iwaizumi took to winning the argument: ‘Sour Makki, creepy Matsun, sporty Watari, barky Kyoutani (here Oikawa nearly choked on his last piece of mandarin), shallot boy Kindaichi, depressed Kunimi and stunning Fox.’ Without another word he proudly refolded his arms and waited for Oikawa’s reaction. Said queen was still trying to recover from his laughing fit and eventually laid his long-nailed hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he wiped a stray tear from his eye. ‘Damn it, Iwa-chan. You’ll end up ruining my make-up.’  
Still nothing from the heir. Oikawa guessed it couldn’t be avoided.  
‘Alright, you got me. That was adequately impressive. 7 out of 10.’ Iwaizumi chuckled and shook his head. Stingy bastard. ‘I guess that’s everyone’, he added, quickly trying to divert from the praising he had to give, as he cast another look around the club. Iwaizumi suddenly felt unusually experimental and was surprised by himself when he pointed his finger at the bird before him. ‘What about this one?’

Oikawa swung back, clearly confused, until he realised that he was the one in question. It was like the previous evening: a rare moment the queen hadn’t foreseen mirrored on his perplexed face, blinking eyes staring at the heir. His mind scrambled to find a clever retort to get him back on track but he fell short. The inquiring limb aiming at his chest was keeping him from putting his showman mask back on. ‘What? You better not have forgotten my name that quickly…’  
Thankfully, Makki who had just passed by their booth and had overheard the conversation, ripped Oikawa out of his block by slamming his hands on his feathered shoulders. ‘This one? Gosh, where to start.’ Only then did Oikawa realise that his salvation turned out more like his demise. ‘Oh, don’t you even dare –‘, he threatened over his shoulder but it was too late. Iwaizumi had already propped his elbow on the table, letting his chin rest in his palm as he regarded the new arrival with utmost interest. ‘No, please do continue. I mean, I will be spending loads of time here, no? Might as well get to know the esteemed clubmaster himself.’ Oikawa almost growled at the sound of his own phrasing in his ears. Makki was more than happy to oblige. ‘I couldn’t agree more. His hair literally looks like an amoeba when we have to drag him out of bed in the morning’, Oikawa swung a manicured hand in his direction which was expertly dodged, ‘he once forgot to tuck properly and displayed half his junk on stage’, the feathered queen had twisted in his seat to get on his knees to better attack him with his fists but Makki simply took a step towards Iwaizumi’s side of the booth,’ AND…’ He leaned closer to the heir but kept his malicious eyes on his flustered friend. ‘He’s never had a date where he didn’t end up displaying the insides of his stomach on their belongings.’

  
‘Makki!’

  
Iwaizumi had been unable to contain his snickering and by that last comment it had turned into full-out laughter. Concluding that his misdeed had been completed, Makki smugly pranced away from the scene of the crime. Oikawa flung his mandarin peels after him in a final attempt at revenge but his embarrassment seemed to fade at the unusual sight now presented to him. Iwaizumi had his hand pressed to his forehead, his eyes were closed and a big smile was spread on his face which set butterflies loose in Oikawa’s stomach. The heir pinched the bridge of his nose as his giggling eventually faded out. ‘If this is how the mood will be, I guess working here won’t be all that bad.’ Still smiling, he lifted his eyes to the queen next to him but was surprised to be met with a wide-eyed stare. _Had he said something weird?_

  
At being caught in his staring, Oikawa forcefully cleared his throat and grinned towards the stage (or anywhere that wasn’t Iwa-chan). ‘Well, all of those were flat-out lies, so you won’t be getting any more of those.’ His smile grew more sincere. ‘But yes, we are a fun bunch to be around.’  
For once Iwaizumi felt like the other’s words were completely true. The mood he was getting from how the performers were interacting with each other almost felt like a big, unusual family. It calmed the few still uneasy nerves in Iwaizumi’s body. Yeah, he could get along with these guys. He saw in Oikawa’s calculated gaze that something had suddenly occurred to him. ‘Shit, I really should join them for this part, actually. Still need to practice that one turn before tonight.’ Very reluctantly, he lifted himself up and away from the heir towards the backstage door. Before he was at too far a distance, though, he turned back around with a warm smile on his face. ‘You can just look around the club if you like. All doors are open so, feel free to have a peak.’ He felt heat rise to his cheeks and prayed the other wouldn’t notice (he was wearing a considerable amount of make-up after all). Iwaizumi had turned on the bench and was eyeing him expectantly, that faint smile still visible, and it was making it even harder for Oikawa to get the words out.

  
‘You should come tonight. I mean – we have a big themed event planned and to be honest, the glimpse you got yesterday doesn’t come close to what we are actually capable of. It starts at 8.’ Iwaizumi could tell that the other was eagerly awaiting his acceptance but since the idea of him venturing out to a show on his own brought back certain insecurities, he opted for an ambiguous answer. ‘I, uh, I’ll think about it.’ That seemed to be enough to brighten Oikawa’s smile. He did a final twirl in his feathery outfit, which earned him another unexpected chuckle from the heir, before returning to his dressing room to get changed.  
Iwaizumi took up his proposal and strolled around the club for a while, his tour eventually bringing him to the first story balcony over-looking the stage. Oikawa had joined the rehearsal in a sporty get-up of black dance shorts, a loose tank top and soft ballet slippers. He had been right in assuming that Oikawa was counted among the few with professional dancing experience: the more burlesque performance the night before had held nothing in terms of sophisticated dance moves which the tall queen was now presenting him with below. It started to persuade Iwaizumi into thinking that actually he would be quite interested in seeing that in full night-club-extravaganza.

  
When he had seen enough and decided it was time to go home and finish those reports, he headed down to grab his jacket and on passing the stage he lifted a hand in Oikawa’s direction to let him know he was leaving. The queen simply grinned and cheekily waved back at him in between movements and didn’t make any bigger of a fuss about it (which Iwaizumi greatly appreciated). He was almost back in the long corridor leading outside when he came to a stop at a flyer being held over his shoulder. ‘Better to be there 10 minutes early. And wear gold or you’ll stand out’, he heard Makki’s non-plussed voice from behind him who let go of the paper so, Iwaizumi had to catch it mid-air. With his mind muddled again, he left the lively club and stood back in the biting cold to wait for his pick-up. Gold? How would he even get hold of anything gold in a few hours?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments <3

**Author's Note:**

> Whoohoo you made it to the end! Thanks so much for reading! I'm really pumped for this AU (even though I've got another Iwaoi one going on at the moment, that's just how I do) and I already have half of the second chapter so...let me know what you think.
> 
> Love, Yara <3


End file.
